


The Body of Beautiful Violence

by friendlyneighborhoodfairy



Series: FNF's Nonbinary Month fics 2020 [3]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, F/M, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Ichigo and Byakuya are too cute, Nipple Licking, Public Kink, Reunion Sex, Trans Female Character, Transitioning, Vaginal Sex, and in awe of each other, first time post-op, look there's a lot of ways they do it ok i keep forgetting to tag lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:00:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26857843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/friendlyneighborhoodfairy/pseuds/friendlyneighborhoodfairy
Summary: Ichigo gets her powers back, and Byakuya breathes in relief that she can see him again. He can touch her again. They return to the Seireitei together, and after deep talks over dinner with Rukia, the pair go back to his room and get frisky. It's their first time together since her surgeries...Do not post this work to other sites.
Relationships: Kuchiki Byakuya/Kurosaki Ichigo
Series: FNF's Nonbinary Month fics 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1843501
Comments: 4
Kudos: 42
Collections: Nonbinary Month 2020





	1. For You

**Author's Note:**

> Bleach (Byaichi) + trans woman.
> 
> Set just after the Lost Shinigami arc.

Byakuya did it. He defeated Tsukishima, paid the man back for the sight Byakuya never wanted repeated:

Ichigo on the ground weeping.

When Tsukishima lay in his own blood, Byakuya’s heart finally settled. He didn’t realize how furious he’d been until he wasn’t anymore. Then he got to watch Ichigo’s final battle.

Ichigo in her power was beautiful. Her hair wild, while the markings on her skin were both utterly foreign and utterly her. She was at home in her strength again. Seeing her destroy her opponent so calmly squeezed Byakuya’s chest. Only she could turn fatal violence into a gentle act of mercy.

When she finished, she and Byakuya made eye contact.

It was like being struck by lightning. A year and a half of being worse than apart, and suddenly she could see him again.

If he touched her, she’d feel it.

Though Byakuya was used to waiting while official things got done, he found himself incredibly impatient once back in Soul Society. In the captains’ meeting, he stood as close to Ichigo as was proper, tailed her out when they adjourned—just wanting to talk to her, to brush her hand.

As soon as their fingers touched, she grabbed his bicep.

“Byakuya,” she said, as if there was a sentence to come after it, but she just looked at him, gripping his arm.

“Come,” Byakuya said, and gave her a smile. “Come home.”

She grinned at him, wild and powerful.

The rushing air as they flash-stepped tingled over him; his skin was alive with her touch, her calloused hand which slid down to grab his.

At the estate, he bent, removed his waraji, and straightened, and suddenly she was kissing him.

The insistence of her mouth. Long and sharp and aching. Her fingers laced through his hair and knotted there, drawing him closer. Byakuya slid his hands around her waist, and though he knew they were in plain view on the veranda, he could not care.

For sixteen months he’d been certain she would never see him again—he could see her, could watch over her, but her eyes were blind. All the love with which she had looked at him became resignation on empty air.

She had looked straight through him one day and he had broken.

A year and a half wasn’t a long time in the span of his life, but it was long enough for heartbreak to be a constant companion. Only in the last month had hope seemed possible, and those days had dragged on as if each were a century pulling him down. But she was here now, and grasping him tightly against her, and Byakuya did not care who in the household witnessed this kiss.

When she finally pulled back, her eyes still looked a bit like she was drowning—like she’d found air but hadn’t caught her breath yet. To be here…

“Niisama,” Rukia called from down the porch, making both of them jump. Ichigo let out something which might have been a startled chirp of laughter. “Ichigo. There’s food.”

Her smile prompted a grin on Ichigo’s face—the same old grin, the same old glint in her eye. Taking Byakuya’s hand, Ichigo practically dragged him into the house.

She was always hungry in the Seireitei. That damn giant reiryoku.

Today, just the three of them, the meal was casual, all of them languishing on the tatami. Byakuya and Ichigo sprawled in each other’s direction, hands touching and Byakuya playing with her fingers as she caught the two Kuchiki up on her life.

Byakuya knew some of it from watching over her, but it was good to hear her voice. She smiled while she talked, peace and happiness scrunching at the corners of her eyes, and it gave him a sense of right calm.

“So you knew about Ginjo?” she asked eventually, looking between them.

Byakuya nodded. “I did. Rukia only knew some.”

“You never mentioned it,” Ichigo said, a teasing tilt to her mouth as she nudged him.

“You keep me busy,” he said, and her laugh made him blush. Honestly, he’d never thought it important to mention when they were so busy kissing and getting to know each other.

Rukia was smiling at the pair of them.

“Ichigo, I’m sorry about—about what I said on the rooftop,” Rukia said eventually. “About you being pathetic and… I don’t think of you like that, you know that. It seemed the best way to get you back into being yourself, I guess? You’ve never been one for emotional rallies.”

“No, I’m not,” Ichigo chuckled, nodding. “And it was stupid that I freaked out. Can’t believe I let it get to me.”

Her gaze rose to the ceiling, and silence fell.

“It wasn’t stupid,” Rukia and Byakuya said at the same time.

“Mm.”

Licking her fingers, Ichigo leaned back and put her head on Byakuya’s stomach. He kissed her shoulder gently, shocked and relieved in so many ways at the warm solidity under his mouth. _She was here._ With him. In Seireitei. He was never letting her go.

He looked at her pensive expression.

“What is it?” Byakuya asked.

“All of them turning against me like that,” she said, staring up into space. “I couldn’t stand it.”

“Your friends are your power,” Rukia agreed.

“It brought back bad memories.”

“You’re not alone, Ichigo,” Rukia said, affection in her eyes. “No matter what it looks like.”

Byakuya sensed a deeper meaning and he waited, hand quietly slipping into hers, which she squeezed.

“When I began transitioning,” Ichigo began eventually, “my friends were like that. Not Chad and Orihime and Tatsuki. I was close to other people at the time. All smiles while they contradicted me. ‘We love you and you’re wrong. Please come to your senses.’ It felt like that all over again.”

She sighed and Byakuya brought her hand to his mouth to kiss the tendons, letting his lips linger on the x-shaped mark on the back of her hand.

“It is always harder when they still love you,” Byakuya murmured.

Rukia made a sad, hurting sound while Ichigo closed her eyes.

“Yeah. I did push those ‘friends’ away eventually. But only after it got to a certain point. I let it get bad enough before I turned my back on them.”

Byakuya kissed her hand again.

They all lay like that for a while, lackadaisical. A somnambulistic scent carried on the breeze. Like cherry blossoms.

A sudden snort and Rukia jolted awake.

“I’m going to bed,” she said blearily. “Good night—evening—whatnot. Niisama. Ichigo.”

She tottered off, colliding slightly with the doorframe on her way out.

Ichigo gave a grunt of laughter and then curled on her side, head on Byakuya’s chest as she looked at him.

“Am I the first girl who’s ever beaten you?” she asked.

He blinked at the topic.

“No,” he said after a moment. “Shihoin Yoruichi.”

“Okay, but that’s shunpo. I mean in combat.”

Byakuya thought. “You are the first. You are not the only, however.”

“Really?”

Byakuya sighed. “I drew my blade on Yoruichi some months ago.”

“And she beat you?” Ichigo chortled. “Wait, wait, why were you starting a fight with her? What happened while I was gone?”

“She…” He paused, wishing to maintain his pride and knowing he would not be able to. “She was talking about how to reorganize ourselves now that you were gone, now that you weren’t coming back. She said it was the far more likely outcome that there would be no way to restore your power, and so we ought to decide if we would protect you, and how long, and how many resources we should actually spend on someone who can’t see spirits anymore…”

Ichigo shrugged. “Reasonable.”

“I was not happy,” Byakuya said darkly.

Smiling somewhere between teasing and gentle understanding, Ichigo kissed his sternum where his shihakusho parted.

“I can’t believe she beat you,” she chortled.

“Please do not sound so surprised,” he said, in what was almost a grumble. “Yoruichi is a formidable opponent.”

“And much older than you, and your senpai. I get it. Still.” Her smile turned whimsical. “I’m amazed Yoruichi-san doesn’t boast about it.”

“It was not her or my proudest hour. She…apologized for her words later. In a public meeting.”

“Wow.”

Finding his hand, Ichigo brought it to her mouth, kissed it, and let it linger there, her breath warming his fingers.

“To lose in combat to one’s better is not necessarily a terrible thing,” Byakuya said, staring up at the ceiling. “It means one has yet more room for growth. It means life has not grown boring.”

“So you’re going to keep getting better until you can beat me, then, is that it?”

He looked into her laughing eyes. “Of course.”

“Good luck.” She kissed his hand again.

“In fact,” Byakuya said with a little smile, “I can crush you now if I so choose.”

“Oh, really.”

“I did not say I wanted to,” he said.

Leaning up onto an elbow, he shifted around so they lay side-by-side.

“There goes my pillow,” she pouted.

Putting his arm beneath her head, Byakuya cut her off when he touched his lips to hers.

Ichigo inhaled into the kiss like a startled bird, plumage rustling, moving closer and putting her hands on either side of his face. Her mouth ate at his, hot and confident, and Byakuya loved that, loved the way she kissed with her entire being. All her attention and energy was on him, on their lips moving against each other.

In this position, he barely had to shift to bring his blade up.

Metal rang and it took him an instant to realize she’d blocked.

“Sneaky, sneaky,” she chuckled, sword pressing hard against his before they both eased off. “Byakuya-sama thought he could catch me off-guard with his affection.”

He sheathed the weapon. “I suppose I am not yet strong enough to beat you after all.”

“Who cares about winning?” She tilted her head and leaned closer. “I’d rather be making out.”

“We can move to my rooms—”

She cut him off with another kiss, this one more passionate than the last. Her fingers were in his hair, tugging until she pulled the kenseikan free, then combing through it. As he drew his fingers up her neck, he felt the rapid beat of her pulse, and under it, the happy hum of her reiatsu, boiling over as always and filling him with a heady sense of lust.

“Ichigo,” he managed, before she was sucking on his lip and he biting at hers.

Feeling her push gently at his shoulder, he found himself on his back with her on top, straddling him. Byakuya kissed beneath her mouth, down her chin, then down the center of her throat, feeling her swallow. When he reached the base of her neck, she was already gently rubbing against him, hips gyrating, Byakuya sucking a dark mark between her clavicles.

Finally, excruciatingly, he pulled back.

“Let us to my rooms,” he panted.

“Mm, good idea. Public sex isn’t my kink.”

She rose, and he shakily got to his feet.

“Really? Silence from Kuchiki Byakuya?” she asked, turning to him as her fingers found his. “Being public turns you on?”

He shifted uncomfortably.

“I once discovered some…shunga involving my person. It affected me in unexpected ways.”

Ichigo’s wide grin was both thrilling and worrying.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said. “But for now, let’s go behind closed doors before we scar any Kuchiki-ke servants.”

“Good idea.”

“My body has changed the last year and a half,” she murmured, kissing his ear. “From hormones and…and other things. I’m different. But I intend to ravage you, Byakuya. And be ravaged by you.”

Squeezing her waist, he looked her seriously in the eye.

“I would like nothing better. Your body is a wondrous thing to me.”


	2. With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get spicier and hotter as they keep going...and eventually Ichigo feels comfortable bearing herself.

Byakuya’s mouth on her shoulder was wet and hot and hungry. Open-mouthed kisses turned into bites along Ichigo’s collarbone. When he kissed down the center of her chest, along the open V of her shihakusho, her breath stuttered. He was here again. All of him, everywhere.

She was both eager and afraid for him to see her naked—mostly eager, not letting fear have time to manifest in the close, heated room where they could finally get reacquainted after so long. She’d slept with nobody in the last year and a half, and there was both a clumsiness and a neediness behind all her movements. Also, her body had changed greatly since the last time they were together, and there were physical firsts she had not explored with anyone yet. Had not explored with him.

She wondered how much he knew about the changes. The Seireitei had kept watch over her—and she knew Byakuya had kept his own watch too; did he know?

Byakuya’s fingers crept along her neckline and pulled subtly at the cloth. Ichigo shivered and he met her eyes for a moment—a moment which melted her with the intimacy of finally seeing those eyes again, being in this presence, _feeling_ him.

Touching him.

* * *

A groan shivered out of Ichigo’s mouth and Byakuya kept sucking gently at the skin between her breasts. The amount of material and the magic of bras made it hard for him to tell the difference with how she’d been before, but he knew the difference was there, knew she was avidly aware that it was there. A new thing between them.

He wondered if this were okay; if she would enjoy everything more now; if he might hurt her on accident; if her body were more sensitive and reactive to him after these changes.

He wondered, and he wanted, too. Wanted to be close to her, to kiss her, to see her body, to watch her smile. To be naked with her, sharing everything.

Ichigo had untied his obi and reached into the folds of cloth to slide her hand smoothly over his length. Shuddering, Byakuya closed his eyes and laid his head on her chest, fighting against the instant release her touch begged of him.

It had been far, far too long.

* * *

Of her friends, Ichigo knew Ishida knew. Orihime knew too, but that was just because she was observant. For that matter, Chad was also observant, as was Tatsuki, so probably all of them knew. The fact that she hadn’t been able to play sports for a number of weeks might’ve given it away.

Ishida knew because his father and Ichigo’s father talked. Who knew why they even spent time together, since they purported to hate each other, but somewhere among what Ichigo was certain were late-night booty calls, they’d talked, and Ryuuken had offered a recommendation on a very good doctor in Tokyo.

She was grateful for the excellent surgeon and lack of complications. Her body and soul weren’t exactly normal, and she hadn’t been sure what might happen.

She also hadn’t been sure if her body would transfer over to Soul Society. If her soul’s form would change with her physical one. She’d never even thought about it, because she hadn’t thought she’d have this life ever again, but when she’d stepped through the Senkaimon and felt the new, now-familiar weight of her chest still present, she’d exhaled in relief.

Herself.

She had Byakuya bared now, robes parted and hair askew, and he was moving above her in a needy way that belied the patience he was trying to show. Hah. As if she didn’t know his wild side. As if she hadn’t seen him let go.

His hand was between her legs, silk doing very little to inhibit him, doing what he’d always been so good at: stimulating her without making her hyperaware or uncomfortable. Using his whole, slim, wonderful hand, rubbing everywhere, feeling _all_ of the places which made her feel good.

“Byakuya,” she sighed against his lips, wanting him to come undone. Wanting to watch as he was forced to let go.

“Mm,” he moaned against her, still moving.

“Up,” she said, pulling at his hips. “Up here.”

He groaned again and shifted a little, but not near as much as she wanted.

“I’m going to suck you,” she said, which made him jolt. “I’m going to swallow your cock. Get up here.”

Panting and red-faced and shocked in that lovely, loving way, Byakuya sat up and shimmied reticently up her body. He never wanted a woman to feel like she had to service him.

“Noblemen do that,” he’d told her once. “They have women get on their knees and take care of them. Pay for it, or manipulate it with promises, or pressure their wives or concubines to the point of doing it. I’m not—I can’t be like that. I won’t.”

She respected that. She still wanted to suck him off, though, she’d told him. If he’d let her.

In the beginning they’d do it with him lying back and her crouching over him, in control. It had taken much, much longer before he hadn’t recoiled when she would drop to her knees before him while they bathed, or when he’d let her do this—take him from below, lying under him, him on top and in the position most associated with power.

What people always forgot was that it wasn’t the person on top who had control; it was whoever was pleasuring the other. (The whole ‘top’ thing was probably a myth pervaded by the same noblemen who so disgusted Byakuya; too afraid to admit that the woman or man under them giving them pleasure was the real person with their hand on the reins. Hah.)

Ichigo shimmied down the futon a little to bring him closer to her mouth, and when she tasted him, things fell into place.

_Hello again, Byakuya._

* * *

Her tongue. Her tongue wrapped around his cockhead, pressed against the slit. Byakuya could honestly do nothing but arch and grip his thighs and let her mouth stoke and build something bright and burning inside him—raise it to the surface like the creation of the sun itself.

She ran her teeth carefully along the ridge of his cockhead and then ducked to nip at his sac. The pleasure, the sensitivity, and the not-quite-pain had him crying out in a strangled, high-pitched noise.

“Mm, hair,” she panted between licking his balls and sucking them into her mouth.

When he didn’t move, not quite understanding, she reached for his hand.

“Grab my hair,” she repeated. “Fuck my mouth.”

“Ichigo…” he groaned. She knew his hang-ups about this.

“Please.” Her eyes met his and, maintaining eye contact, she took his cock deep in her mouth and then pulled off of it again with slow, tight precision. Her mouth was incredibly hot _._

She took his fingers and curled them in her hair while he gripped on as directed, letting her take him deeply a few more times before he gradually added his own momentum, easing into her mouth, pulling out when his body demanded it, following the needs of his cock for certain touches.

Ichigo groaned the same way she did when he had his face in her ass. When his eyes snapped down, he saw her face was tense with pleasure and her fingers kneading the bed.

“T-Touch me,” he encouraged, and her hands found his hips and began to knead his thighs, the added touch just sending even more signals to his cock that _this was very good, amazing, let go now._

Looking down, he watched her mouth hollow out around his cock, her cheeks flushing from the exertion, and him disappearing between her lips. Her eyes fluttered shut and she swallowed around his tip, making Byakuya release a garbled, half-tense cry.

He pushed with his knees to slide back, and came on her chest in the gap of her shihakusho.

Panting, they stared at each other, him still crouching over her. Cum dribbled down her sternum toward the hollow of her throat as her chest rose and fell with each breath. Maintaining eye contact, Byakuya slipped down her body, hands on either side of her waist to lower himself down. His tongue flicked out and drew a line up the center of her body.

Ichigo’s entire body shuddered.

* * *

Ichigo watched Byakuya lick through the cum on her skin. When he reached her throat, she grabbed his face in her hands and pulled him into a hard kiss, tongue diving into his mouth possessively. Byakuya groaned and Ichigo tasted the salty hint of his spend. He was just as forceful, letting her eat his mouth and then drawing away from her to lick back up her chest again, cleaning her off; and between every long, velvety stroke, she sucked at his tongue and bit his lip.

Making eye contact for a second, Byakuya shifted his weight to his knees and curled his fingers gently around the open collar of her shihakusho. Along that bared V of skin, significantly wider than before they’d started making out. His fingertips were light and carefully tested the waters, scudding back and forth over her skin.

Ichigo closed her eyes and immersed herself in the touch. That barest bit of callous catching at her sensitive skin. Touching places that hadn’t been touched in this way…ever.

“Byakuya,” she groaned quietly, and he stopped his movements immediately. “No, wait—don’t stop. It’s good. I like…slow. Keep going.”

He nodded like her words made any sense, and leaned on an elbow to continue touching her with his other hand, dipping his head to leave soft kisses on burning skin. His eyes stayed on her face, measuring her reactions, drinking her in. It was hard not to feel insecure under a gaze that made her feel so vulnerable, but what he was doing felt so good. So she closed her eyes and just focused on the feeling.

His hand shifted lower, slowly, untying her obi so he could pull cloth back a bit further. He still didn’t undress her, continuing the awed exploration, and Ichigo liked that; felt her jittering nerves calm under his fingers.

“Wait,” she said after a moment, bra digging in. When he pulled back, she sat up, pulling her arms inside her shihakusho for a moment to undo her bra. Arms reemerging, she tossed it across the room without disrobing and lay back down. “Better,” she said.

He smiled and bent to kiss her chest again.

Taking his hand, Ichigo guided him further inside the layers of her kosode, fingers scraping up to the curve of her breast. They both made little shocked inhales at the same time, eyes meeting. Ichigo knew she was blushing, but was assuaged by the mirrored in Byakuya’s cheeks and the hint of insecurity in his passion-glazed eyes.

Breaking the gaze, Byakuya trailed kisses in the wake of his fingers and pulled the cloth further aside. Ichigo tensed, not expecting this, suddenly unsure and feeling like everything was way too fast—but Byakuya didn’t bare her completely, nor did he let the baring chill her, his breaths hot and fast as he continued to kiss her skin.

Her hand wrapped around the back of his neck as he sucked and dragged teeth over the side of her breast. A harder nip made her jolt and gasp. Her fingers dug into the fine hairs at the base of his head, a groan escaping. Sitting up, she kept him against her and undulated to the rhythm of his lips and tongue doing such painfully wondrous things to her.

Byakuya was straddling her thighs now, his robes still parted lazily. His body was so beautiful, pale and smooth and hard.

Emboldened by his nakedness, she reached a hand to untie her obi. But his delicate attentions had her so on edge that her fingers shook and she couldn’t seem to find the seams of the knot.

Suddenly, hands joined hers. Ichigo couldn’t hold back a hot moan when he sucked hard at her skin and nudged her trembling fingers out of the way. Obi sliding free after a moment, Ichigo felt her hakama loosen, ready to slip down her legs at the merest tug.

He’d worked her into such tense knots with this respectful, tantalizing attention to everywhere _but_ where she desired it. She wanted to pull the shihakusho from her shoulders and bare herself to the waist, let him see what they’d danced around, watch his face while they explored the new territories together.

But before she could undress herself, Byakuya was dipping his head, sliding back to settle between her knees while he gently moved the front tails of her kosode out of the way. With his head bowed and inky black hair spilling across his face, he looked like a supplicant, at her mercy, in a way he had never been, even in their battles. When he pulled down her hakama, his hot exhale covered her skin and Ichigo shivered.

That simple act, that warmth of him enveloping her, suddenly made her nudity with him, open before him with his head between her thighs, feel right. She wanted more.

“Byakuya,” she moaned, brain unable to stop the wailing cry of his name, the desperation of it. Leaning back on her elbows, she felt her muscle tension both relax and double, all at once, chest heaving with free, rapid breaths while her thighs and stomach felt like they might break from how hard they clenched.

He inhaled, as if breathing her in, then touched his tongue to her skin.

She made an entirely new sound from any she’d ever made before.

* * *

Her wordless praise sounded like heaven to him. The encouraging gasp as he tentatively licked her, her groan when he applied his lips.

His moves were clumsy. He felt out of his depth in a thousand ways, and her body was something he wanted to honor and pleasure, but he didn’t know how. He didn’t know anything. He didn’t know her.

But her fingers found his on the futon, twining tightly together as the moves of his mouth made her tense and moan. “Byakuya—” fell from her lips and it gave him the confidence to fumble on and discover.

She liked when his tongue flowed broadly over her clit; moaned when he trailed his tongue around the edge of her vagina; squeezed his hand to death when he sucked open-mouthed around her clit. When he tipped his tongue inside her cunt, she actually pushed her fingers into his hair and found a handhold.

“B-Byakuya!”

Equal parts alarmed and entranced, he did it again, staying shallow, tongue flexing a little inside her.

“Fuck,” she whispered, “I need—hand, higher, and— _god,_ please. I like that, I like that…”

He pressed a thumb over her clit as he continued to lick into her cunt. Her writhing almost shocked him out of her body, but he knew those sounds, knew how much pleasure those strained, high-pitched whines connoted.

So he kept on, and minutes passed, and he kept discovering, enjoying the taste of her—the smell of her rich and overwhelming—and vaguely aware how much it was turning him on to see her like this. To be able to make her like this.

On impulse, he pressed a finger in beside his tongue. Ichigo went stock-still as he probed at her cunt, body straining until the tension broke and she humped hard and suddenly at his face.

“More, another,” she gasped. Then, pressing her fingers over his hand that was working over her clit, she panted, “Fuck, I’m close…”

She was close, and he didn’t even know what he was doing. She was close, and she was a masterpiece, and there was so much to learn, but he could do it, and she liked it, and he could get better at this—this was proof.

Whether it was the increased pressure above her clit or the second finger in her cunt or both, he’d never know. Something launched her, and it truly was a _launch,_ Ichigo curling and squeezing and then shooting into a stiff-backed pose of recoil, her entire body trembling as she pressed herself against his face.

He felt her orgasm against his lips, her pulsing pleasure under his tongue as she thrust against him through it all. It seemed to go on and on, or maybe that was because he was used to a different kind of sex with a different kind of anatomy; maybe this was normal—hell, there was just so much to find out.

It was the most exciting thing he’d faced in ages.

“Byakuya,” she finally panted as her voice neared normal again. He saw her fingers picking at the edges of her kosode. “Would you…”

“Yes,” he said, mind on autopilot. He couldn’t stop looking at her fidgeting hands, feeling the promise of what lay beneath the cloth. More discovery. And in this case, one he was more familiar with.

When he sat up and leaned over her, taking the edges of her upper layers in his hands, she shook like a rattled window and met his eyes. Staring at each other, he lay the cloth aside, and his eyes skipped down to take in bare skin…

And two breasts with hard red nipples.

Beautiful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *whistles* gotta love me some good byaichi lovin.....


	3. In You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byakuya plays with Ichigo's body. Ichigo is delighted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like usual, Nonbinary Month is carrying into a second month :) I'm still really tired from getting over covid. Can't work, which you would think would give me more writing time, but that's actually sleeping time, so...  
> Thanks for your patience!

Ichigo’s nipples hardened under Byakuya’s stare. Something spiky and hot shot between her legs at the lust in his eyes.

Leaning in, he wrapped his lips around her nipple without warning like he couldn’t help himself, closing his eyes and groaning as he sucked hard. Instantly, Ichigo arched against him, pleasure wrapping its fingers around her. When his lips moved against her breast, she let out a high moan and threw an arm over her face to bite down on her own wrist.

It was _too much._

“Ichigo, god, Ichigo,” Byakuya hissed reverently, flicking his fingertips just barely over her nipple. “ _God._ ”

He sounded like he had right before coming on her chest, and when his cock brushed her thigh, she realized it was because he was ready to come again, thick and hot and so turned on by the vision of her topless.

“Byakuya—” She cut off when he bent to nibble at her, a light press of teeth on her nipple that had her seeing stars, followed by nips along the full curve of her breast. “Fuck!”

“You’re perfect,” he breathed against her, making her shudder. “You’re so hot.”

Byakuya didn’t often do dirty talk, but she heard in those words everything he was feeling: _I can’t stop staring at you. I want to fuck you._

Ichigo reached between their bodies to press her fingers against her slit, soaking wet from him licking her. She groaned at the easy slide as she brought her fingertips to bear on either side of her clit, squeezing it, adding pressure to just the right spot…

“Oh, gods.”

Byakuya’s cock jumped, enough to brush her hand, and she opened her eyes to see him watching her movements. At her next shuddering breath, he raised his gaze to hers. His eyes were black with desire, from wanting her.

With a little smirk, keeping eye contact, he lowered his mouth to her other breast and dipped his tongue to slide from the bottom crease of her breast up to the point of her nipple.

“You taste,” he whispered, “so good.”

“B-Byakuya!”

While she was still moaning his name, he went down on her with teeth and lips, sucking bruises into her breast, nipping at her overstimulated nipple, suckling her tit until she was bent backward by the pleasure.

She wasn’t sure if she wanted to escape the intensity or get more of the sensations.

Cramps began to seize her muscles, legs and arms and stomach pulling taut, even her fingers getting clumsy on her clit. The tension wouldn’t let go of her and she didn’t want it to, sped higher and higher in its grip.

“Ichigo,” Byakuya spoke, lips still around her nipple as the words tumbled into her flesh. “You have no idea how you look to me. I could do this to you for the rest of my life.”

With a final cry, feeling Byakuya bite down on one nipple and pinch the other, the tension in her body peaked in a crash of sparks. A star exploded into the space of their existence. The pleasure drew itself out, winding around them, sewing them together. Not one being, but two. Who wanted to be in each other.

“Byakuya,” she panted, hips lifting under the soft ministrations of his fingers, which had gently replaced hers. She could go again. Especially if he was going to keep touching her so lightly, with that flick of temptation. His tongue on her breast was sinful.

Glancing down between her legs, she saw, past his bowed head, his cock springing long and hard between his legs.

“Byakuya,” she gasped again, and this time it was a breathless moan. Her body could not stop humping against his. “Please.”

“Mm,” he hummed, mouth opening to suck more strongly between her breasts.

Before the pleasure could overwhelm her, she wrapped her fingers in his hair and tugged his head up.

“Up here,” she demanded.

He crawled up to kiss her, obedient and thirsty. With his lips ducking down to suck on her own, she reached between them and took hold of his cock.

Byakuya gasped, which turned into a groan, his eyes flying open before sliding back into his head.

“Ichigo,” he whispered, panted, his forehead resting against hers. “Fuck.”

She swallowed. Kuchiki Byakuya did not just say ‘fuck.’

He started to pump into her hand immediately, and she used the opportunity to pull him closer, their bodies against each other. Before he could realize what she was doing, she wrapped her legs around him and slid his cock back and forth against her slick cunt.

He’d been so careful with her, but she wasn’t breakable. He seemed scared, but she was full of desire, and this was what she wanted.

His eyes widened as she slid him home inside her body before he had a chance to pull away.

“Take me, Byakuya,” she whispered. “Please fuck me. Fuck me _right now._ ”

* * *

As soon as she pulled his cock inside her, Byakuya was shaking. Shuddering, broken, a mess of a man feeling how wet she was around him, how she squeezed him every time her hips undulated.

Then he realized she was begging.

Gasping a breath, trying to stay in control of himself, Byakuya pulled out of her slowly and nearly died from the drag of her cunt along his cock. When the tight muscles of her entrance squeezed his tip, he pushed back inside, going slow but unable to hold back the full force of him brushing inside. Filling her up.

She stretched as he penetrated her, finding his lips and colliding with him in a messy, uncoordinated kiss. As he pulled out and back in again, they fell into a rhythm, her arms tight around his hips, hands digging into his lower back while he held himself over her on one arm. The other hand curled around the back of her neck, into the sweaty roots of her hair to cling to her as they kissed and kissed and kissed.

She was mesmerizing. Like this, pulling him in, begging, beneath him and arching up to join him, to be as close as possible… Every time his body rubbed against her breast, she panted harder. At the merest lick of a nipple, she shouted and squeezed tighter around his cock.

And she’d just come a minute ago.

He realized he hadn’t focused on her clit for a little while, and began to shift around to find an angle where he could rub against her while he thrust.

Eventually he found that when he thrust his hips up and down against hers, instead of in and out, he was able to give a lot more friction to her clit—as was obvious when she gasped away from their kiss, then leaned in and bit his ear. Hard.

It helped him too because he didn’t think he’d last long. This was less friction on his cock, less pulling in and out and thinking about the fact that he was inside her body, fucking her, joining with her…

He twisted his hips to improve the angle for her, and the further stimulation had her calling his name over and over.

Byakuya had never seen anything hotter. God _damn._

He was going to have to take advantage of this new pleasure a lot more in future. All of these new discoveries—every secret of where her body reacted to him, every movement of her fingers that could make her come undone.

He was breathing hard into her neck now, his body covering hers. Her stiff nipples rubbed against his chest as he thrust, occasionally catching on his own and making _both_ of them grunt.

Mindless, he let his lips travel down, smiling when Ichigo’s immediate response upon him releasing her from their kiss was to tip her head back and let her mouth fall open in pleasure. As he sucked on her neck, he watched the movement of their bodies: her stomach tensing and legs drawing him in, his arms taut and shaking, her fingers splayed on his chest. Her knuckles curled as she let out a whimpering gasp.

“Please, Byakuya,” she breathed against him. “Please.”

Earlier, he’d been thinking about this—about fucking like this, and how he didn’t know what to do to make it pleasurable, didn’t know what she’d want; and she probably didn’t know what she’d want in this position either. It had been a nervous thought, earlier. Now, though, in the heat of it all, he found no time to be nervous. They would do and act and experience, and the experiment would find things they liked and didn’t, and they could repeat as many times as needed…because they weren’t going to be separated after this. Hell, tomorrow morning they could fuck again if they wanted. They’d be in the same bed. They’d be by each other’s side.

In his arms, Ichigo suddenly hardened and took tighter grasp on him, controlling their movements—and gasps turning into groans. Watching her come was the most powerful thing he had ever witnessed.

“Fuck, Byakuya,” she said, pulling on his arms until he increased his pace of hard thrusting. “Gods, that felt…”

Her sweaty, flushed face moved through expressions of awe.

Groaning, Byakuya buried his nose in her neck. He held onto sanity by his fingertips and the only image in his mind was the impassioned, sweat-streaked face of her orgasm.

He sped up his movements now, wanting to join her, chasing the pleasure she sent down every one of his nerves when her cunt tightened around him. They were a sweaty mess wrapped around each other. The heated room, the whispered praises and shared breaths: this was all there was in the world.

Byakuya took hold of Ichigo’s hips as he penetrated deeper. He was going faster now, too. She put a hand between them to rub her own clit more, fingers grazing his cock and _fuck._ She was touching him and he was entering her and this, this, it was unbelievable that he should get to have this. With her. With the person he loved.

A few minutes more of fast, hot fucking, and he finally felt the sharp rush in his balls that preceded the most excruciating euphoria in the world. Ichigo followed right along with him, her tongue fucking his mouth as they gasped and came and came down together. Her reiatsu shattered outward as she came and it was intoxicating, the rush of spiritual power coming into him while his tension and cum rushed out into her body.

“Gah…wow,” she murmured in a broken voice.

He realized quite suddenly there were tears in her eyes.

Something must’ve happened to his expression because she immediately smiled and framed his face with her palms. And he understood: these were the good kind of tears.

He kissed her face, trying to slow down, feeling her cunt still jerking around his softening cock. Her lips traced his face in return: wet, panting, casual kisses that were punctuated by her gasped exclamations. “Wow,” she moaned, kissing him, “oh my gods.”

The tears still on her face were wiped by an unsteady hand as she smiled at him, eyes wide and exhausted and somewhat unseeing.

As they panted down, he felt her fingers caressing his back, nails occasionally digging in slightly as if to remind him who he belonged to and what she’d done to him mere moments ago. To Byakuya, that possessive grip closed his throat with emotions he couldn’t express.

_Please, never let go._

When at last his breath had calmed down, he crouched up and pulled out of her, and realized quite suddenly that he’d come in her naked body.

“We didn’t use a condom,” he said, still blinking.

“Well, yeah.” She sounded amused. “We’re both clean and I can’t get pregnant.”

He continued to stare down at her. Her navel moved every time she inhaled, and the shape of her body was so incredibly delicious.

“I’ve never…done without,” he said.

“Oh.” It was her turn to blink in surprise. Then she grinned. “Well, did you like it?”

He gave her an imperial eyebrow-raise. “Of course.”

His expression made her laugh, her fingers smoothing the lines of his forehead while Byakuya smiled and leaned into the touch.

“I missed hearing you laugh,” he said.

“How?” she chuckled, still in good humor. “I don’t laugh _that_ much.”

“No, but it’s always so rewarding when you do.”

This time her smile was fond. She cupped his face and, after a moment, drew him into a slow, uncomplicated kiss.

Eventually, Ichigo pushed crumpled garments off the bed and reached for the covers.

“Hold me,” she said as they settled down beside each other.

Her tone was normal, but the position, as he spooned her and wrapped his hand around her hip, felt protective. She’d been vulnerable with him; this was his promise not to hurt her with it.

As if he ever, ever would.

“I…love you,” he whispered into the darkness.

Her breaths came evenly with sleep, and he smiled. Even this was perfect.

* * *

Ichigo awoke to soft sounds somewhere in the room. Byakuya’s arm was still around her—flung more haphazardly now, both of them having shifted around throughout the night, though they’d stayed close. The way she liked, the way she’d wanted; the way she’d dreamed of being with someone her entire life.

She was relaxed enough it felt nothing troubling could happen. Opening her eyes slowly, she found a gentleman in a dark yukata quietly straightening up. At some point, one of them had kicked the covers down the futon, so she surreptitiously pulled them up to preserve decency, but she didn’t pull away from Byakuya. She’d waited too long to have him; she wasn’t going to be separated from him now, even if he would’ve been embarrassed to be caught together like this had he been awake.

The serenity and low golden light flowed around her, basking in the warmth of their shared body heat. Suddenly the servant spoke softly.

“Will Kuchiki-dono take breakfast in these rooms?”

A quiet rumble in the chest beside her startled Ichigo.

“Yes.”

“You will not be disturbed.”

Ichigo waited until the door had closed before turning to stare into Byakuya’s eyes. The dark grey looked warmer, his expression softened to something that wasn’t smiling, but something better. Peace.

“Good morning,” he murmured. “I hope I did not wake you.”

“Nope.”

She smiled, and felt a rush of joy at the way his eyes crinkled up in response. It made him look young, boyish; she could almost imagine him running around creating mischief like in Yoruichi’s stories.

“You look happy,” she said, brushing hair away from his forehead.

“That’s because I am.”

At this, a chuckle reverberated in her throat. People would’ve once said such a thing was impossible. Kuchiki Byakuya, happy.

Curling into him like a creature drawn to water, she breathed in his skin, suddenly incredibly grateful to be back.

Her life would’ve been a shadow if she’d stayed without her spiritual abilities. If she’d stayed blind and powerless…yes, she would’ve moved on—she had moved on, had worked hard and found new things to do—but it wasn’t the same. Could never really be the same as this, because this was where her heart was.

Adjusting in their embrace some minutes later, she said, “I hope it didn’t embarrass you, being caught like this.”

To her surprise, his answer was immediate. “Why would it embarrass me?”

Ichigo sat up, turning to see his face and the real confusion there.

“A Kuchiki-ke servant now knows we have an intimate relationship,” she said. “Supposing they don’t gossip—”

“They won’t.”

“—that’s still someone very aware of what you and I were doing last night, Byakuya.”

“Everyone does what we did,” he replied. “It’s natural and normal.”

“Everyone? Really? With that much passion?” she teased.

He leaned in, brushing their noses together.

“Everyone in love, at least,” he said.

Her heart jumped into her throat. Wrapping her hands around the back of his head, she pulled him in and kissed him hard, close, breathlessly. He kissed back with just as much vigor, his palm landing to press over her heart.

“Everyone knows we have an intimate relationship,” he said when they pulled apart. “I have been told I only smile when you are around. Both the head servant and one of the family elders I am most familiar with came to tell me so after you were gone.”

Ichigo laughed in disbelief. “What were those conversations like?”

“The former was a subtle and kindly attempt to get me to mourn properly and heal. The latter was a far more forward conversation that attempted to impress upon me that my personal feelings had a bearing on the state of our family and I ought to be more controlled about them.”

“Kuchiki Byakuya, letting his feelings get the better of him?” she gasped. “Choosing feelings over _honor?_ Never.”

A laughing smile curled up his lips.

“I did not heed her words.”

“That’s good. I wouldn’t have liked to come back and find you’d moved on.”

Despite her joking tone, Byakuya pulled her into his arms, his face pressed into her shoulder.

“No need to think further on it,” he murmured.

Smiling, she rubbed her hands up and down his back in comfort.

“I’m here now,” she said after a while.

“Exactly.” He squeezed her. “You’re here, and I have no engagements. The day is yours. I can…even…”

“Yes?”

“I can fuck you. Whenever and however we’d like.”

“Mmm,” she moaned, tightening her grip on him. “That will be happening today. More than once.”

The door sliding open interrupted them. They were both naked and sitting up, covers pooled around their waists, but the servant didn’t even look up; simple deposited the meal by the door and closed it again.

“Eating first,” Ichigo decided. “Gotta make sure you have your stamina.”

“You’re worried about my stamina? Worry about your own,” he retorted as he got up to fetch the food.

“You make me feel too good for me to ever run out of the energy to fuck you,” she said sweetly.

Byakuya reddened and coughed, and Ichigo beamed at him.

It was so good to be back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goddess I love these two. Byakuya might be a tad out of character at the end? But I don't really care. I wanted them to be cute.
> 
> Let me know what you thought!

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 2 will be more than twice this long and full of smut ;)


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